


Mistletoe Moments

by AgentExile



Series: Living Costs Minis [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Special, Domestic Fluff, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, is that all the fluff tags?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-07
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-13 14:42:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16894551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentExile/pseuds/AgentExile
Summary: Lee Taeyong is living out his dreams, a lifetime of his own happy-endings. He’s got the job he always wanted, the family, the fiancé. His fairy-tale.As he and Ten prepare to spend Christmas together, they’re so busy that they barely have a second to pause. And yet they just can’t seem to stop running into each other under the mistletoe.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh hi, it’s Friday, which means it’s Living Costs update day! This fic is a little mini-fic to celebrate the holidays, following the events of my existing story. If you haven’t read Living Costs, then it’ll be three chapters of extreme taeten fluff.  
> Those of you who know me probably know I’m not very good at leaving things alone once they’re done so… this is the promised revisit. I wasn’t going to quit LC without ever having explored a taeten Christmas together.  
> For anyone wanting some tooth-rotting fluff over the holidays, consider this my contribution <3  
> May x

   Taeyong rubbed his hands together, glancing up and down the street. It was snowing, persistently, the sort of snow that seemed it would never end. It was unusually heavy for Seoul and settling with particular intent, which meant that the city’s population was divided into two halves – those who were excited, and those who were complaining.

   For the most part, Taeyong was the former. He _loved_ the snow. When he had been holed up in the recording studio, only wandering out for a coffee during his lunch break, it had been that _perfect_ kind of scene: he’d walked down the street with a red wool scarf wrapped in several layers around his neck, a steaming latte in his hand, strolling happily as the little white crystals settled into his hair.

   Now, though, it seemed less perfect.

   For one thing, it was cold as fuck.

   And for another, it was dark and turning treacherously icy on the sidewalks and he wasn’t sure his driver had ever been late before.

   He wondered whether he should slip back inside, but he’d just locked up and he didn’t want to have to do so all over again, so he glanced up and down the street, shoving his hands into his pockets to keep them warm instead. He liked this particular coat. Even though his closet was as big as his bedroom and stuffed full of beautiful things, he still wore this one every day in the coldest spells. It was simple, tan and soft, and extremely warm, of tight woven wool. Ten had bought it for him during a visit to London.

   _Ten_.

   Ten, his fiancé, who spoiled him rotten with everything from the most beautiful clothes ever crafted, to the world-class recording equipment that sat on the desk of his home studio, nestled on the top floor of their apartment. Ten who was the most beloved person in Taeyong’s life, who could be ferocious in the office as he steered the fortunes of the company that had made _their_ fortune, but who was warm and gentle and filled with love the second he stepped back out of it. Ten who wouldn’t like the thought of his darling stuck out in the cold, and would probably come to pick him up himself if he knew that their driver had got held up somewhere.

   With that in mind, Taeyong pulled out his phone, ready to text him. He was very careful not to fumble it with his cold fingers, because it was brand new, and he’d never quite mastered the art of treating expensive things with anything other than reverent care. He hadn’t always owned things like this, after all. Not too long ago he’d worn old coats of Johnny’s, which overwhelmed him so significantly in size that he’d had to roll the sleeves up, and he’d had an old phone of Yuta’s, the screen cracked and barely functional in one corner. Almost everything he’d owned had been a hand-me-down from his two best friends.

   He hadn’t always had _Ten_.

   Before he could even begin to type, however, a glow of headlamps flickered down the small street down which the studio was hidden, and his face broke into a smile.

   It was Ten’s car.

   ‘Need a ride, pretty boy?’ Ten smiled as he leant across and pushed the opposite door open.

   ‘You’re late,’ Taeyong pouted. ‘And you’re not Jaejin.’

   ‘I gave him the night off. I didn’t want to miss seeing my baby in the snow.’

   ‘My nose is probably all red,’ he mumbled as he settled into the passenger seat, closing the door quickly behind him.

   ‘Yes, yes it is.’ Ten leant over the gear shift and kissed him. He was warm, so satisfyingly warm that Taeyong took his hands and interlinked their fingers together. As Ten parted their lips gently, lovingly, with such measured care because he still treated every kiss like their very first, Taeyong nuzzled his nose in against his cheek for warmth. ‘Hey!’ Ten pulled away with a laugh.

   ‘It’s really cold out!’

   ‘I’m sorry I was late,’ said Ten, as he concentrated back on the road and pulled out onto the main street. ‘Not many flower shops are open this time so I had to travel. And they’re hardly seasonal.’

   Taeyong glanced over his shoulder, and then twisted excitedly in his seat when he saw the bouquet of roses laid across smooth black leather in the back. He grabbed at them, lifting the whole elaborate bouquet onto his lap. ‘You got me roses?’

   ‘Happy Christmas, baby boy.’

*

   Taeyong started his Christmas holiday that night, hanging up his keys from work which had been entrusted to him by his boss. He’d been picking up more and more responsibilities at the music studio recently – Youngbae was treating him like something of an apprentice. Now, though, he looked ahead at nothing but two weeks off in the apartment, out of the apartment, anywhere he could enjoy the company of his partner, who for the first time had taken the whole Christmas period off work, his kittens, who were already starting to grow into little _cats_ but would forever be kittens to him, and his friends.

   The first evening of his holiday started with roses, and ended in a bath with rose petals.

   Ten’s fingers were stroking lazily through Taeyong’s hair, damp from the steam rising from the water, his other hand drawing shapes on his skin as he held him back against his chest.

   ‘I could fall asleep right here,’ Taeyong yawned, and he closed his eyes. It was true. His head rolled back against Ten’s shoulder, which made Ten laugh and push his bangs away from his temple so that he could press a kiss there.

   ‘You are very welcome to sleep here,’ he murmured, ‘I’ll hold you nice and tight.’

   ‘But then the bed is _so_ comfortable.’

   ‘That it is.’

   The apartment that had once been Ten’s, but had now for so long been _Taeyong-and-Ten’s,_ was a much warmer place than it had been two years ago. The bed had always been comfortable, with an abundance of pillows and silk sheets like the finest hotels in the world, but once Taeyong had moved in, it had found a _warm_ comfort as well as a sleek one. Over the foot there were thrown two of his fluffiest blankets that he’d acquired at college, which he tugged up over the two of them each night when Ten was sleeping and wouldn’t notice, tucking them neatly around him.

   Taeyong loved to lie awake and look at Ten. Their second anniversary had come and gone, but Taeyong still never got bored of watching him sleep. It was when he looked softest, with no hint of the intimidating businessman shell that he wore each day. Sometimes, if he woke up from a dream suddenly, or if he just couldn’t get to sleep because there was something on his mind, Taeyong would prop himself up on his side and look at him until his mind settled enough to let him go back to sleep.

   ‘Bed,’ Taeyong decided, these thoughts lingering.

   He stood up in one fluid motion and climbed out of the bath, reaching for one of the plush robes on the side.

   ‘Just a second,’ said Ten.

   Taeyong turned and raised his eyebrows.

   ‘You look pretty.’

   Taeyong trailed his fingertips along the two furious purple hickeys at his clavicle that Ten had left there an hour earlier, one hand on his hip, as Ten surveyed him. ‘Thank you. You’re pretty too.’

   Ten’s eyes dragged once more up and down his body, and then Taeyong stuck his tongue out before sliding his arms into the fluffy sleeves of the robe and walking to the mirror instead.

   He examined his hair, listening to Ten follow him out of the water.

   ‘What colour for Christmas?’

   Ten wrapped a towel around his waist, and then his arms around _Taeyong’s_ waist, chin edging up onto his shoulder as he met his eyes in the mirror. ‘Well traditionally the colours of Christmas are red and green… but I quite like the idea of you looking nice and snowy.’

   ‘White?’ 

   ‘Mm,’ Ten hummed.

   Taeyong nodded at his reflection. ‘Yeah, white.’

   He hadn’t dyed his own hair for a while, a relief to his fiancé because it meant that dye stains had stopped cropping up everywhere in the bathroom. Jungwoo had introduced Taeyong a while back to his best friend, Kun, a hair stylist who had first refusal on jobs for anyone in the family. To Jungwoo’s surprise, though, Taeyong had already known the name. Kun happened to be the stylist for the music group of which Donghyuck was a part, Donghyuck being the rambunctious sort-of-not-quite-boyfriend of Taeyong’s cousin Mark. Taeyong was discovering, more and more, that everyone in the most interesting or esteemed echelons of Seoul seemed to have some sort of connection to one another. And he was part of it now.

   So he would call Kun and see if he could squeeze in an appointment before Christmas.

   ‘Everyone is coming around at eleven, by the way, on the 23rd,’ said Ten, with a quick kiss to his cheek as he turned business-like. ‘I checked today.’

   ‘Yay!’ Taeyong, extremely happy to be hosting this year’s family Christmas party. ‘Oh I can’t wait. The whole family together.’

   ‘It’s lucky we have a big dinner table,’ Ten laughed.

   ‘The real question is what about Christmas day, though?’ smiled Taeyong. He turned around, still encased in Ten’s arms, their faces close enough that their noses almost touched. Ten released his waist and leant both hands on the bathroom counter instead, framing him in.

   ‘I can think of a few ideas.’

   The previous year, they’d spent their first Christmas together. The year before that, they’d known each other but still hadn’t quite been _close_ enough, which was a bizarre memory for Taeyong. He could hardly recall a time when Ten wasn’t the most important person in his life. He couldn’t even imagine anymore what his heart had felt like without Ten’s love coursing through it every single day. Sometimes he remembered the times he used to cry, or curl up tightly as though to insulate the chill of the hole in his heart that the loss of his family had left behind – that loneliness that couldn’t quite be cured by friends. But it all felt… distant, detached, now, as though that had been some other Taeyong. He’d been so vibrantly in love for so long that those memories didn’t stir anything up, anymore. They were just… there, filed away in his brain.

   He’d spent each Christmas with Johnny’s family, before meeting Ten. They’d never once minded laying an extra seat at their table, even on a day so typically reserved for family. Then, the previous year, he’d found himself listening to the absolute chaos that was a table of Ten’s friends after a _lot_ of spiced wine. This year, though, because of everyone’s schedules, the day itself would be just for him and Ten.

   ‘On Sunday, I have my visit to the hospital, if you’d like to come with me.’

   Taeyong nodded before he’d even finished. ‘Of course!’ he said excitedly.

   Each year at Christmas, Ten spent his entire work bonus on supplies for the Seoul children’s hospital, and presents for the kids who wouldn’t be able to go home for the holidays. He always dedicated a day to delivering presents at the hospital, which last year had meant that Taeyong got the closest he ever would to seeing Ten in costume. He actually wore a Santa hat. Taeyong, on the other hand, had gone in full elf attire, flitting around from room to room with unadulterated enthusiasm.

   Taeyong had suffered in his life. He knew that. Sometimes, in the past, he’d written off his own experiences as insignificant, normal, a part of life, but Ten had always taken the time to remind him that he’d done so much to be proud of, overcome so many horrible things to become who he was. But if it was one thing that he had _always_ been most thankful for at the end of each year, it was his _health._

   He’d never been sick, not really.

   Not apart from the side-effects of sleep deprivation, and the occasional flu. He’d always had a body that he could rely on, and now with Ten as an extension of his existence, he knew he was lucky to have a fiancé who was robustly healthy as well. They had the money, too, for a full medical whenever they might want one. Taeyong knew they were lucky, and he knew that the only way to show his gratitude was to take some time to help others who weren’t so lucky.

   ‘I made some cards we can put with the presents yesterday,’ he said. ‘While you were at work.’

   Ten looked at him in surprise. ‘You did?’

   ‘Mmhm. I may have gone a little overboard with the glitter so… please don’t be mad when you find the… ah… the evidence.’

   Ten narrowed his eyes playfully. ‘You didn’t make them on the couch, did you?’

   ‘ _May_ be.’

   He rolled his eyes. ‘Right, that explains why my clothes kept picking up glitter that evening.’

   ‘Sorry,’ Taeyong smiled innocently.

   ‘Thank you for making them,’ said Ten. He stroked a hand through Taeyong’s fluffy russet hair, almost dried. ‘Your heart is so beautiful, Yongie. Just like the rest of you.’

   Taeyong leant forwards to peck a quick kiss to his lips. ‘Will you wear a matching beard to go with your hat, this year?’ he whispered.

   ‘Mm _no_ ,’ said Ten, with another kiss.

   ‘Spoilsport.’

   ‘You wouldn’t have me any other way, though, would you?’

   Taeyong smiled at that. It was a line that he used himself with Ten an awful lot – he used it when Ten called him impatient, or teasingly demanding. But Ten was right, he loved him down to every miniscule detail just how he was too. Ten was… charmingly uptight at times, which meant that he and Taeyong, who had no word meaning restraint in his vocabulary, balanced each other out beautifully.

   ‘Of course not,’ he murmured. ‘I even love you before your morning coffee.’

   Ten laughed, swaying him from side to side as he stroked more kisses at his neck. ‘That’s love.’

   It was true.

   Ten could be very grumpy before his caffeine fix.

*

   Morning found Taeyong flat on his back on the huge couch, headphones on, playing with the paws of the lazy black cat curled up asleep on his chest. He didn’t even hear Ten approaching, only glancing up when his face appeared to press a kiss to his forehead, and Taeyong freed one hand from the cat to slide his headphones off. ‘Morning!’

   ‘Good morning my love. I dropped by the pastry store.’ Ten was beaming, post-coffee.

   Taeyong would have sat up in excitement – his fiancé often visited the coffee-and-sweet-things shop on their estate before Taeyong woke up, and he always returned with something delicious. He didn’t sit up, though, because as Ten spoke, Galaxy gave out a long, contented purr, fidgeting until he could rest his chin down at the hollow of Taeyong’s throat.

   ‘That cat loves you more than anything,’ Ten murmured. ‘Just like I do.’

   ‘Well he is the Ten-cat,’ said Taeyong, smoothing out the neat fur over his paws and watching his nose twitch slightly in his sleep. ‘My baby Galaxy. My universe.’

   ‘Where’s Snowy?’

   ‘Probably in your tie drawer,’ Taeyong shrugged, ‘you know how much he likes unravelling them.’

   ‘I’ll go find him,’ Ten rolled his eyes.

   He returned a moment later, the white cat snuggled in his arms. Snowflake looked almost as self-satisfied as Taeyong did whenever he got his way. From the moment they’d come into their lives as tiny kittens, Galaxy had always been known as the _Ten_ of the pair, and Snowy as the _Taeyong_.

   ‘How does he even get _in_ there?’ Ten said in disbelief, collapsing back onto the couch.

   Taeyong lifted Galaxy to sprawl over his legs and sat up. ‘He’s a clever cookie,’ he beamed. He flopped sideways, head against Ten’s shoulder.

   Ten played lazily with the ears of the Tae-cat for a while, before Taeyong nudged at his jaw with his head.

   ‘You can play with my hair too.’

   Ten laughed, stroking his fingers into Taeyong’s hair. ‘I was thinking, we should go out. I had a… small idea. Do you like to skate? You have that poster of Kim Yuna in your studio.’

   ‘Oh Ten I _love_ to skate,’ Taeyong gave him a radiant smile. ‘Skating is the most beautiful thing in the world. It’s strength combined with artistry and elegance and sparkles and - ’

   ‘It won’t be elegant when I try,’ Ten said in a warning tone.

   ‘Have you never been?’ Taeyong giggled.

   Ten shook his head. ‘No, but I am willing to try. For you.’

   ‘I love when I find something I’m better at,’ Taeyong said smugly. ‘Oh I can’t _wait_ to see you slipping and sliding. Can I invite Yukhei to watch?’

   ‘You’re cruel,’ Ten sighed.

   ‘You know you can’t wear a suit, right? You’ll have to wear something… _casual_ ,’ Taeyong gave a mock shudder.

   ‘What do you mean _,_ casual? Like jeans? Because I can wear jeans,’ said Ten, as though this was something to be very proud of. It was rare, still, to see Ten wearing anything other than a suit in public. At home, he lazed around in sweats, loose shirts, but outside? Not so much. Ten always proclaimed that he didn’t feel the cold, but Taeyong hated it when he came home with stiff fingers and always darted quickly to the coffee machine. It had taken half an hour of convincing just to make him wear a turtle-neck to work a week earlier, because Taeyong couldn’t bear to let him out in the snow wearing only a thin white shirt and a suit jacket.

   ‘Just please wrap up warm, Tennie,’ said Taeyong, with a pout. ‘At least wear the scarf I got you.’

   Ten nodded. ‘Anything if it stops you worrying, sweetheart. Now eat your pastry.’ He put the bag he’d brought back from the store on Taeyong’s lap and stood up, walking at a slight angle because there was a kitten clasped onto his shoulder. ‘We can go this evening.’

   ‘Thank you, Ten,’ Taeyong whispered.

   He meant it. He knew that this sort of thing was out of Ten’s comfort zone – _way_ out of Ten’s comfort zone. Ten didn’t like anything that involved potential public embarrassment, and over the last couple of years Taeyong had also come to recognise that Ten wasn’t a fan of anything he wasn’t automatically _good at_. For Taeyong, half the fun of learning something was falling all over the place and laughing about it, but he could tell that Ten didn’t like not being perfect at whatever was put in front of him. He’d grit his teeth, figure it out, practice until he was better than half of the people who’d been doing it for years, but he didn’t do it with a smile.

   Luckily, there were very few things in the world that Ten _wasn’t_ immediately good at.

   This might stretch Ten’s comfort zones to the limit, but he would do it, for Taeyong.

   He’d done a lot, over the last couple of years, to encourage a return to the things that Taeyong had enjoyed as a child. So many things had been lost along the way, Taeyong had noticed more and more once he’d taken the stress from his life and replaced it with fun. When he was little, he’d still enjoyed things with his family, but by the time he was a teenager he’d drifted so far apart from his parents that they’d stopped inviting him along on days out, and by college, he couldn’t afford the entrance fee for anything that required him to leave his room.

   He’d just sort of forgotten things.

   But Ten always figured them out, he took the clues from something as simple as a poster in his studio, and he always made them happen.

*

   The rink that Ten took Taeyong to was nestled amongst trees strung with fairy lights that gave the artificial copse a mystical glow in the evening – a real grotto. It was overlooked by the Grand Hyatt Hotel, where Ten had promised him a magnificent dinner afterwards. It was just about the most romantic place that Taeyong had ever seen, and Ten had taken him to some _romantic_ places before.

   He’d also bought him boots, not content with rentals, complete with fuzzy white skate guards. That had been his gift for the day – he’d given Taeyong a present every day of December, like the world’s most elaborate advent calendar. It was an unnecessary indulgence, but Taeyong wasn’t going to argue. The thing he cared about most in the world was Ten’s happiness, and he knew that spoiling him was what made Ten happy.

   He pulled on the clean, smooth boots that Ten had bought, lacing them tightly but with just enough flex around the ankle. He knew what he was doing. Once upon a time, he’d done this a lot.

   He did Ten’s for him, too.

   ‘You’re very good at this,’ Ten commented.

   ‘My sister taught me lots. She was really into skating. Like _really_ into it,’ said Taeyong. ‘She was the one who used to take me all the time.’

   Ten met his eyes, holding his hand when he was done with the laces. ‘Yongie… have you ever… thought about contacting your sister?’

   Taeyong bit his lip and looked down. ‘No.’

   ‘Okay,’ nodded Ten, and he didn’t push him. He never really needed to, because it was usually just the warmth of his hand that coaxed out truths from Taeyong. And sure enough:

   ‘I went to see her, once. It wasn’t long after I left. But my parents were there and they _lost_ it. And I ended up running back to the train station crying and… well she didn’t follow me,’ he shrugged. ‘She… chose them.’

   Ten inhaled as though to say something, but stopped.

   ‘What?’ Taeyong murmured, recognising the sound. There was very little that Ten could sneak past him, anymore. They knew each other too well.

   Ten just shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

   ‘Okay, I lied,’ said Taeyong, ‘I _have_ thought about it. But I don’t want to. I’m not interested. I already dug everything up with my family once and it was horrible and I don’t want to do it again. I’m happy, right now. So happy. As happy as a person can possibly be. I’m not going to mess around with that.’

   Ten stroked his fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him close to kiss him. ‘Good,’ he smiled. ‘As long as your life is just how you want it, baby.’

   ‘It is.’

   ‘Alright, then it’s time for you to teach me something,’ Ten sighed. He wobbled slightly when he stood up.

   Taeyong beamed as he pulled him towards the rink.

   ‘I’m so _excited_ ,’ he said, unsteady as he stepped onto the ice. He’d told himself that it would be just like riding a bike, but for the first few moments he found himself slipping, knees straining.

   ‘This looks dangerous,’ said Ten, eyes focussed very pointedly on the ice.

   ‘Come on,’ Taeyong smiled once he’d found his balance, and he took both of Ten’s hands, pulling him with him. ‘You take the _boards_ lane. I won’t let you fall over.’

   ‘God I love you.’

   ‘I know. That’s why you’re here on this unstable surface,’ Taeyong said lightly, and then he popped a quick kiss to Ten’s cheek. ‘I love you more.’

   Ten was, Taeyong found, a natural talent.

   Like that was surprising.

   Perhaps it was the dancer in him, an innate sense of balance, a remarkable ability to control his body and isolate his movements. Perhaps it was just his utter refusal to embarrass himself in public. Either way, it didn’t take long for him to leave the boards, and to hold Taeyong by the hand instead of a vice-like grip on his arm.

   ‘Not fair,’ Taeyong pouted. ‘Why do you get to be good at everything?’

   ‘This is what you call _good_?’ Ten laughed, as he tripped on his toe and nearly fell flat on his face, caught at the last moment by Taeyong doubling over.

   ‘I’ve seen worse,’ Taeyong laughed breathlessly, pulling him back upright.

   He stopped in a space and held Ten still for a moment, smoothing down the front of his jacket. His grey cashmere scarf was neatly arranged, a gift from Taeyong when the winter had started, but had fallen just a little askew.

   ‘Well would you look at that?’ Taeyong murmured, and he nodded up.

   There was a sprig of mistletoe tied to one of the tree branches above the rink, innocent and waiting.

   ‘Perfect timing,’ said Ten.

   He brushed a finger under Taeyong’s chin to tilt him in for a kiss, and his other hand took his waist, pulling him to him. For those precious seconds, time stood still, and the cold disappeared to be replaced only by the warmth in between them. In Taeyong’s mind, nobody else was there, the entire world stepping aside to allow them their moment of privacy. Ten lingered at his lips past their kiss, breath warming his skin, and then he gave one last tender kiss to his jaw before withdrawing.

   His eyes flitted over his features, like he was learning them once more from the start.

   ‘What are you looking at?’ Taeyong pouted.

   ‘Just falling in love all over again,’ Ten sighed.

   Taeyong blushed pink, cheeks already red from the cold. ‘But I promised I wouldn’t let you fall,’ he teased, knowing that the line would probably be sappy enough to make Ten shudder.

   Instead, though, he just pushed off again, resuming their circuit. ‘I fall for you every day, Taeyongie.’

   ‘Me too. But for you,’ Taeyong added. He giggled when Ten nearly lost his balance again, getting _far_ too self-confident now.

   ‘Stop giggling!’

   ‘I’m not,’ he said, pulling his most serious face. Then, when Ten straightened up, he chanced: ‘as if you don’t love the way I laugh _anyway_.’

   Ten turned to him with exasperated eyes, but there was a playful glint there. ‘Yes,’ he conceded, ‘I love that too.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/puffyong_)
> 
> [Living Costs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150934/chapters/32614455)


	2. Chapter 2

   ‘I am not sick.’

   ‘You might be a _little_ sick.’ Taeyong’s cheeks betrayed the laugh he was holding back, slightly puffed up and dimpling from where he tightened his lips in a line.

   Ten rolled onto his back with a groan. ‘I don’t have time to be sick.’

   ‘Don’t worry, I’ll look after you,’ he said happily. ‘Nurse Tyongie, at your service.’

   The run up to Christmas had gone smoothly enough that Taeyong wasn’t surprised to find _something_ was trying to interrupt it. They’d made their hospital visit, spending so many hours on the wards that they’d had to be reminded that they weren’t allowed to stay _too_ late. Ten had finished up the last of his work before his Christmas break, leaving the office with only a couple of backward looks because he was getting much better at letting someone else handle things for a few days. They’d ordered food for their party and a new cat tree even though it had taken a large amount of persuasion for Taeyong to convince Ten that cats needed presents too. They’d been shopping together for decorations.

   And now… this.

   ‘I don’t get sick,’ Ten muttered. ‘And I leave work and _suddenly_ I’m like this. It’s not a coincidence. It’s a sign.’

   It was true – Ten didn’t get sick very often. Taeyong had a suspicion that it was because pathogens didn’t _dare_ try to tackle him while he was working, it just wasn’t worth their while. And on the rare occasion that he did fall victim to a virus, he was not a good patient.

   Taeyong had seen it coming before _he_ did. He knew Ten so well, all of his patterns and his habits and his quirks. He’d noticed how his sleep had changed slightly, how he’d woken up in the night more than usual. Taeyong was a light sleeper, so he always noticed when Ten sat up and checked his phone for the time, or felt around for Taeyong’s body to pull him into his arms, or put the dim lamp on to read for a while.

   Ten had definitely been _off_ , the last couple of days.

   And now he was complaining of a tickle in his throat, a slight soreness, all while maintaining resolutely that he absolutely was not sick.

   ‘It’s okay, because you don’t have to work,’ Taeyong beamed, but then his face fell as Ten coughed.

   ‘We’ve got to get the apartment ready for everyone coming around. I don’t have time for illness.’

   ‘I can do all that,’ Taeyong pouted. ‘You just stay in bed. I’m sure it’ll be one of those one-day things anyway. It’s only a tickle and it probably won’t come to anything. I’ll make you some rice porridge, and some tea. My porridge recipe cures all colds, I promise.’

   ‘I’m not sick.’

   Taeyong leant over to kiss him, but Ten turned his face away quickly.

   ‘I’m not passing it on to you!’

   ‘Thought you said you weren’t sick?’ Taeyong’s voice was sly.

   ‘I - ’ Ten narrowed his eyes at him as he realised he’d been caught out.

   ‘I’ll make your breakfast,’ said Taeyong before Ten could say anything else, as he climbed off the bed. ‘I’m going shopping with Jungwoo, today. Do you want me to pick you anything up?’

   Ten met his eyes, and then he gave him a small smile. ‘I already have everything I need.’

   Taeyong looked at him, still wrapped up in the tangle of blankets from the bed, soft hair falling into his eyes. They sure had come a long way from the Ten who was always gone by six in the morning.

   ‘Me too.’

   ‘Then what are you shopping for?’ Ten teased, raising his eyebrows.

   Taeyong leant in to press a kiss to Ten’s forehead before he could avoid it again. ‘Things I _want_.’

*

   Things that Taeyong _wanted_ included, above all, one last present for Ten, which was exactly why he was shopping with Jungwoo, because his friend wanted one more present for _Yukhei_.

    ‘Cars… cars…’ Taeyong murmured as his eyes flitted across the store windows.

   He didn’t know anything, not a single thing, about cars, except that Ten drove a particularly pleasant black A _ston Martin_. He was mildly reassured, though, to hear that Jungwoo at least knew about as much as he did.

   Last minute shopping meant a search for inspiration in two things: cars, for Yukhei, and _art_ , for Ten.

   ‘How about that place?’ Jungwoo nodded across the street at an art gallery.

   Taeyong made a non-committal noise but then he shook his head. ‘We’ve been in there before. It’s really expensive.’

   ‘I… think you can afford it,’ Jungwoo said lightly.

   ‘It’s not that, it’s just - ’ Taeyong pulled a face. ‘I don’t want to buy Ten something that’s just expensive. The art in there is nice, but it’s not like _wow_. And I already got him _stuff_ stuff.’

   ‘Like…?’

   ‘I got him some _Tom Ford_ ties, and some really nice aftershave - _Creed_ , and then some new crystal decanters for the bar because ours are looking really old now. I thought about buying him this _ridiculous_ chess set but then I realised he might ask me to play chess with him so that was a no. Ten’s really hard to buy for, he already _has_ everything he wants because he just buys it for himself.’

   Jungwoo hummed his agreement at that.

   If it was something the two of them could relate on, it was the struggle of buying presents for the men who had everything.

   It was one of the reasons why Taeyong was so grateful that he had Jungwoo as a friend. He’d always been lucky with finding friends – Yuta and Johnny especially were, in Taeyong’s humble opinion, two of the finest people in the entire world. But Jungwoo was the one person with whom Taeyong could talk unabashedly about his relationship, to someone who really _understood_ , and he was eternally thankful to have him at the end of the phone or to hang out with.

   None of Taeyong’s other friends had a partner on the rich-list, a detail that brought with it issues and demands that just couldn’t be understood without experience.

   Jungwoo had settled all of his anxieties about his contribution, his _financial_ contribution, to his and Ten’s life together. He’d reassured him too that it was normal to occasionally find the _money_ side of their world suffocating, that Yukhei and Ten and Doyoung had lived in it far longer than the two of them and were used to it, but that Jungwoo had also found it difficult to process, even vulgar sometimes, when he’d first started dating Yukhei. They’d talked together about trying to compel their partners into holidays, about handling the days when work stress made it home, _and_ about dealing with the media.

   Like Ten had said once – the world really was fascinated by corporate celebrity.

   And aside from all of _that_ , Jungwoo was also a wonderful friend. He was quiet, caring, but also very funny, very perceptive, and he had a fun-loving streak that he shared with Taeyong. The two of them could both be cute, but they could also be sharp. They were more similar than Taeyong had ever imagined when they’d first met.

   ‘How about cufflinks? Yukhei always likes cufflinks,’ Jungwoo suggested.

   ‘Oh God I’m not buying him more cufflinks. He has hundreds. He laughs at me for hoarding clothes but you should see _his_ closet,’ said Taeyong, without a hint of sarcasm. Ten really was just as bad as him, he just amassed different things. For all his passion for clothes, Taeyong still couldn’t quite understand quite why Ten needed twenty identical white shirts, _or_ an entire drawer of watches. ‘I still think art,’ he mused, ‘but not a gallery like that. Somewhere off the beaten track, some hidden gem that’ll actually surprise him…’

   ‘Paint him something.’

   ‘Huh?’ Taeyong looked up in surprise.

   ‘Paint something yourself,’ Jungwoo said gently.

   Taeyong let out a small, shy laugh, looking down at his shoes. ‘Painting’s just a hobby for me, I’m not that great. Not good enough.’

   ‘It doesn’t even matter. _That’s_ what would be special to Ten, not something from some store. I know Ten, and what Ten loves is _you_. So give him you.’

   ‘It might be a bit too late, now. I don’t think I’ll have time; it’s only a few days.’

   ‘Well, there’s always time in the world for a late Christmas present,’ said Jungwoo. ‘It’s the thought that counts, not the date.’

   Taeyong nodded, thinking through the idea. ‘Oh what about _these_?’ he announced suddenly, distracted by the particularly ostentatious looking jewellery store that they had just passed.

   He was used to this side of town, now - the side of town with the luxury brands and the department stores and the art galleries that rented vast swathes of prime Seoul real estate just to house two or three paintings per room. He didn’t shop here all the time – in fact, he preferred the stores that he’d known since before he met Ten. Thrift stores, independent stores, tiny local stores, because those were where he’d met the nicest people and bought some of his nicest clothes.

   But he was no stranger to the pricier parts of the city, either, and he enjoyed shopping there on occasion. He _particularly_ enjoyed it when people looked down their noses at him, affronted by his bright hair and his loud gasps or giggles because God forbid he might actually find shopping _fun_. Their preconceptions, their judgments, didn’t hurt him. They made him laugh harder, especially when Ten was with him to roll his eyes at them too.

   Taeyong had still never quite _fitted in_ , with certain corners of Seoul, but he didn’t care.

   He didn’t like fitting in anyway.

   ‘Yukhei will definitely like these!’

   Jungwoo leant over him, examining the display.

   ‘ _Autavia watches embody a respect for the authentic world of motor racing and its roots…_ ’ Taeyong read aloud.

   ‘Taeyong, you’re a diamond,’ Jungwoo exhaled. ‘He needs a new watch anyway, he left his favourite at a party a few weeks ago and I still haven’t _quite_ been able to track it down.’

   Their journey took them to the biggest department store on the street, where Taeyong was able to hunt down some things for Doyoung and family, and Jungwoo bought a particularly soft sweater for Yukhei. They also had milkshakes at the food hall, over which they talked for a while, Taeyong playing with his straw. He’d gone for caramel, his favourite.

   ‘I meant to ask you,’ said Jungwoo as he folded the sweater he’d examined one more time back away into his bag. ‘Did Ten wear the beard?’

   Taeyong laughed, eyes crinkling. ‘No, he didn’t,’ he said with a pout. ‘I tried my best.’

   ‘Some things even _you_ can’t convince him to do,’ smiled Jungwoo.

   ‘Oh if I’d _really_ really tried, I think I could have managed it,’ Taeyong winked.

   Jungwoo leant forwards, chin rested on his hands. ‘It’s lovely, Taeyongie, seeing the two of you together this year. Last year you were already so in love, but this time it’s… there are certain things that only come with _time_. The way you are together now is different. Ten used to look at you like this special wonder, like he could hardly believe that you’d walked into his life, but now he looks at you like he _can_ believe it. The two of you are so secure now, so settled, it’s beautiful. You got there much quicker than Yukhei and me,’ he added with a laugh.

   Taeyong blushed, still playing around with his drink. ‘Tennie always says that we… that we found each other at exactly the right time – that our stars aligned just at the perfect moment so that everything fell into place.’

   ‘Well I think he’s right. I think - ’ he paused, smiling, ‘ – I think that me and Xuxi’s stars were a little more _scattered_.’

   ‘You joined them all up _together_ , though,’ said Taeyong. ‘You crafted your very own constellation. And that’s just as beautiful.’

   ‘It’s a lovely little universe, isn’t it?’ Jungwoo smiled as a stirred his own drink.

   ‘Especially once you add in Doyoung and Jaehyun and their _brightest_ new star.’

   ‘The brightest indeed,’ he nodded, heart skipping along. His family got more precious by the day.

*

   ‘Johnny? _Johnny_?’ Taeyong yelled anxiously.

   He was hot, very hot, because he was wearing a thick-knit _Gucci_ Christmas jumper, patterned with little red reindeer, that trapped the heat against his skin. He was also hot because he’d been cooking all morning, determined to prepare as many of the bitesize dishes as possible for the party himself, even though Ten had repeatedly reminded him that they could enlist the help of a caterer.

   ‘Yeah?’ Johnny half sat up, but only far enough to prop himself on his elbows because both of the kittens were jumping on his chest. They looked especially small compared to him.

   ‘Johnny I need you!’ Taeyong whined.

   Yuta lifted the cats off, letting them sit in his lap instead, as Johnny crossed to the kitchen, peering over Taeyong’s shoulder.

   ‘I don’t think the consistency is right.’

   Johnny looked down at his gingerbread dough. ‘It looks great, TY.’

   ‘Nothing’s working out _right_!’

   Ten crossed from the other side of the kitchen. ‘Baby, take a breath,’ he murmured, wrapping his arms around his waist.

   Taeyong inhaled several long, deep breaths as Johnny took the bowl.

   He always breathed when Ten told him too – he’d always been good at following his instructions, always sought their reassurance when he was flustered. ‘I just want everything to be perfect.’

   ‘ _Calm_ , kitten,’ Ten breathed when Johnny was out of earshot. ‘Everything looks beautiful.’

   Taeyong nodded slowly. ‘Okay.’

   ‘My perfect little chef.’ Ten smiled and kissed his cheek. ‘You are amazing.’

   Ten, who had recovered from his momentary cold-scare within a few hours and returned to perfect health a day later, was acting as Taeyong’s sous chef. Taeyong had called on the help of Johnny, though, for his gingerbread, because Johnny was the king of all things homely, a master of brownies and pancakes and all manner of recipes from his mom.

   ‘I’ve bitten off more than I can chew again,’ Taeyong mumbled.

   ‘No you haven’t, you’re doing great,’ said Ten, even though he could easily have said _I told you so_. ‘You’ve got plenty of time before everyone else gets here, and you’ve got us.’

   ‘You haven’t got me!’ Yuta called out. ‘I do _not_ cook.’

   ‘Don’t eavesdrop,’ Taeyong pouted with a small smile. ‘But it’s true,’ he added to Ten, ‘I’ve tasted Yuta’s cooking.’

   ‘Worse than mine?’ Ten raised his eyebrows.

   ‘Well, it’s not as bad as yours when you _first_ started, but you’ve had me to teach you for two years now.’ Taeyong laughed, heart settling. ‘And I suppose you are learning from the best.’

   ‘It’s a party, Yongie, I want you to enjoy it,’ Ten reminded him. He was talking very close to his ear, the way that he always did because it was closeness that reassured Taeyong. ‘You are an impeccable host, but you get to relax too, remember?’

   He exhaled, and nodded again. ‘I’ll enjoy it, I promise.’

   ‘Good boy.’

   ‘Hey!’ Taeyong swatted Ten’s hand away as he went for one of the little croquettes that Taeyong had taken from the oven a moment earlier. ‘Hands off!’

   ‘But your cooking is so good.’

   ‘You’ll have to be _patient_ , Tennie.’

   Ten sighed. ‘Sometimes I think I made a mistake ever saying that word to you.’

   ‘Love you.’

   ‘I love you too, my darling.’

   After that, Taeyong’s nerves settled down. He flitted around the apartment, from the oven to the decorations to the stove, to Johnny and Yuta and Mark and Taeil to play with the kittens for a while, to the door to check whether the others were walking down the hallway yet. Ten’s friends were arriving a little later than Taeyong’s – their schedules always somewhat more packed.

   When the door _finally_ buzzed, Taeyong leapt up and skipped to the door ahead of Ten, who caught his hand from behind to walk with him.

   ‘MERRY CHRISTMAS!’

   Taeyong actually had to curve away slightly as soon as he opened the door, because Yukhei shouted at exactly at the second he scooped him into a hug, voice an explosion of decibels right against his ear.

   ‘Happy Christmas,’ Taeyong choked out, at risk of suffocation. When Yukhei put him down, he turned. ‘And to you, too,’ he said, though it hadn’t been so long since he’d been out with Jungwoo.

   Doyoung and Jaehyun arrived shortly after the two of them, on time to the exact second. That wasn’t surprising – Taeyong had never known Doyoung to arrive anywhere either late or early. He didn’t hug him, because he knew that Doyoung found that sort of thing uncomfortable, but Jaehyun did hug both Taeyong and Ten close in turn.

   ‘Where’s my nephew?’ Taeyong pouted, looking around.

   ‘Jaehyun’s mom is babysitting,’ said Doyoung, as he sidestepped an attempted bear hug from Yukhei. ‘We thought it might be a little loud and run just a little late for him.’

   ‘Damn right it’ll run late,’ Yukhei grinned. ‘I brought a _lot_ of drinks.’

   Taeyong huffed, but only for theatre. He already babysat every other week. ‘So wine… wine…’ he nodded from one to the next, pausing at Doyoung, who he knew wasn’t always inclined to drinking.

   ‘Water,’ he smiled, ‘we brought the car in case we have to take off early.’

   ‘Wine… wine… water… wine… wine…’

   ‘And for you?’ Ten murmured.

   Taeyong turned in his arms. ‘Something sweet.’

   Yukhei shoved past them, rolling his eyes at their sentimentality, and went to go and see Taeyong’s friends instead, introducing himself as _Lucas-who-you-met-at-Taeyong’s-graduation_ as though anyone could ever forget him.

   The crashing of two worlds, Taeyong’s friends with Ten’s friends, happened on rare occasion, but each time it was brilliant.

   Yuta got on particularly well with Yukhei, while Taeil preferred to sit and talk with Doyoung, the two of them rather quieter than the rest of the party. Mark had been cornered by Yukhei and was nodding automatically along to whatever he was rambling about. Johnny was helping Taeyong out in the kitchen.

   ‘You okay, TY?’ he asked when he caught Taeyong looking at the group of them with slightly glazed eyes.

   ‘I – yeah,’ he swallowed, looking down. He blinked away tears – irrational, involuntary tears that crept to his eyes. ‘The holidays are…’ he took a breath, ‘it’s always hard.’

   ‘I know, I know,’ Johnny nodded. He’d spent enough Christmases with him. ‘But your family’s all here, okay? We’re right here.’

   Taeyong nodded, blinking more rapidly. It hadn’t been as bad this year, diminishing with each turn of the calendar. He didn’t find himself dwelling on the fact that he’d never have another occasion with the vast majority of his blood family again, not usually. But he couldn’t shake the fear, the small residual anxiety, that this was all going to go away, go up in smoke. He’d already lost one family. ‘I know,’ he whispered and he squeezed his eyes shut for a second. ‘I know,’ he said, voice clearer this time, and he meant it. A few deep breaths, and the worry started to dissipate.

   When Johnny walked back to the couch, Taeyong saw him stop beside Ten for a moment, whispering into his ear, and then Ten turned to look at Taeyong, standing up immediately.

   ‘Hey, you,’ he murmured when he reached him. ‘I think everyone’s having fun!’

   ‘Yeah,’ Taeyong cleared his throat. ‘Yeah they are. Everyone likes the food! And the presents.’

   ‘I can’t _wait_ for you to open everything I’ve got for you,’ Ten smiled. He brushed the bangs gently from Taeyong’s face, running the backs of his fingers down his cheek. ‘I can’t wait for our special day, just the two of us, together.’

   ‘Plus the cats,’ Taeyong sniffed.

   ‘Plus the cats,’ he nodded in agreement.

   ‘Are you okay, baby boy?’

   ‘I’m fine. I had a wobble. But I’m fine.’

   Ten pulled him into a hug. Taeyong buried his face into his shoulder. His white hair was a soft layer of snow over Ten’s shirt, pristine and perfect in colour but mussed as Ten ran his fingers through it.

   This contact, this was what meant everything to Taeyong. That _closeness_ again. He’d been a physical person for as long as he could remember, and clingy to boot. Every time that Ten held him, everything else melted away and was replaced by warmth, pure happiness.

   ‘ _Oh_ no, Yukhei wants to play a game,’ Ten said in a warning tone, looking over his shoulder, and the two of them pulled apart. Taeyong laughed, already forgetting his moment of worry, and darted over to the couch.

   ‘We’ll get into teams,’ Yukhei instructed loudly.

   ‘ _Absolutely_ no word games. And no trivia,’ said Ten, with a glance at Doyoung and Jaehyun. ‘We’ve already made that mistake one too many times. And nothing that’s going to trash our apartment, _please_.’

   Taeyong’s eyes worked the room, love in his heart. Johnny had taken Taeil’s hand on his thigh, lacing their fingers together. Doyoung and Jaehyun were showing around a picture of their son, their _son_ , which Jaehyun’s mom had just sent them. And for Taeyong? Well Ten was back behind him, holding his hips, reassuring him that he was there.

   His family.

*

   The day turned to the evening, which turned to the night, because as promised by Yukhei, his crates of booze lasted _very_ late.

   Doyoung and Jaehyun left first, of course. They had a son to get home to.

   Yukhei and Jungwoo stayed the longest, so long that Taeyong was actually stifling yawns, flopped sideways against Ten on the couch.

   Only when Jungwoo had half-carried Yukhei from the apartment, calling a cab on his way, did Taeyong yawn much wider, climbing into Ten’s lap and snuggling into his chest.

   The apartment seemed very quiet, much more quiet than usual, once everyone had left. The noise that had filled it had been taken with them, the music turned off, all the laughter and the stories leaving only fading imprints in the air now. Even the kittens were asleep, curled up together, quiet.

   ‘And you’re all mine at last,’ Ten exhaled, shifting him closer.

   ‘Well I think we did rather well,’ said Taeyong. His eyes were closed.

   ‘Your food was brilliant, Yongie. I can’t believe you did all that. You never cease to stun me.’

   ‘It was nothing.’

   Ten frowned. ‘It was a _lot_. I was proud of you today.’

   ‘Do you think everyone enjoyed it?’

   ‘They _loved_ it. Some of them a little _too_ much.’

   _Some of them_ meaning Wong Yukhei.

   Taeyong climbed off him, kicking off his slippers, and started to pad barefoot to the bedroom instead, still yawning. Ten followed him. He took both of his hands and lifted them to kiss his knuckles.

   ‘What’s that?’ Taeyong glanced up. Ten’s eyes followed his gaze automatically. ‘ _Conveniently_ placed,’ Taeyong beamed in faux surprise, nodding at the false, plastic mistletoe that he’d pinned himself above their bedroom door.

   ‘Oh very convenient,’ smiled Ten.

   ‘So…?’

   Ten caught him in a kiss, quick and messy and without hesitation. One hand took his ass, the other resting at the small of his back, and Taeyong had to break away to giggle when Ten hooked both hands under his thighs to lift him. Taeyong wrapped his legs around his waist, lips much more open than his embrace because he wanted nothing more than for Ten to take ownership of his mouth, give him one of those rough kisses that made him moan against them.

   Ten obliged.

   He always gave him what he wanted.

   ‘You, Lee Taeyong - ’ he started, breaking away for just a moment. He dropped him down on the bed and kissed him again. ‘ – throw a _very_ good party.’

   ‘Well you did help. A little.’ Taeyong laughed again as Ten moved his kisses to his jaw, but it turned to a moan when he grazed his lips over his throat.

   Ten pulled back too soon, though, and stroked his face with his fingertips. ‘Let’s get to bed. You’re tired.’

   ‘Not _that_ tired,’ Taeyong said slyly. ‘I’ve got plenty of energy left in me yet.’

   ‘I have no idea what you could possibly be suggesting,’ Ten smirked. ‘No idea at all.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/puffyong_)
> 
> [Living Costs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150934/chapters/32614455)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hi! It’s the last Friday before Christmas to I’m back to wrap this one up. It’s been so fun to revisit the LC world for these two even just for a little while, and I’m sad to say goodbye again. Thank you so much to those of you who read this one and left all your kind comments, they’re the best Christmas gift <3 I suppose it’s time to say goodbye to taeten again for a little while, so I’ll leave you with this.  
> Happy holidays, love May xx

 

   Taeyong really, _really_ wanted to be the first out of bed on Christmas morning. He told himself over and over again that he would wake up early, adamant that sleep was simply an issue of mind-over-matter and that if he gave himself strict enough instructions, he’d wake up on time. He couldn’t set an alarm – he wanted to surprise Ten. So he curled up on Christmas Eve, Ten nuzzling softly at his nape as he wrapped him in his arms, and chanted his internal mantra.

   _Wake up early._

_Wake up early._

   Several hours later, he woke up what _felt_ like early, pulled from an unusual dream that he seemed to recall involved snow and flowers, and opened one cautious eye, as though opening both at once would be loud enough to rouse Ten. Then he sat up and huffed loudly, both hands flumping down on the mattress.

   Ten was already gone.

   ‘ _Fuck_ ,’ he whined. Disgruntled with himself, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. It wasn’t even late. He’d done pretty well. And Ten was _still_ gone. _How_ had he managed to end up with the one guy in the world who woke up so early?

   He ran a hand over Ten’s side of the bed and found that it was still warm.

   ‘Huh.’ So he hadn’t been up long.

   He slid out of bed, carding a hand into his hair and finding it slightly knotty. One yawn, two yawns, and he slipped from the bedroom into the bathroom, peeking just for a second down the hallway. Ten was in the kitchen, coffee maker gurgling.

   Taeyong shut the bathroom door quietly and went to the shower. He turned the heat straight up, because Ten had this frightening tendency to enjoy cold showers on occasion to clear his head, and Taeyong had fallen victim to the dial being left on _freezing_ more than once. His screams had been enough for Ten to run to his rescue, perhaps thinking he’d encountered a particularly scary spider. Though, now that Taeyong thought about it, a couple of those occasions had ended up with Ten _in_ the shower with him, so it wasn’t all bad.

   He showered, humming happily to himself, and then fixed his hair. It didn’t feel like work, though most people might not bother quite so much with their appearance just to spend a lazy Christmas in with their fiancé. But for Taeyong, getting dressed up was always the best part of the day. He’d get dressed up even if he wasn’t going out anywhere, even if he wasn’t going to see anyone. He liked to smell nice, look pretty – it helped him feel confident. He loved the routine, he loved the moment when he looked in the mirror and felt his very _best_ , and he loved seeing Ten’s reaction every time.

   Usually, this process meant choosing some of his loveliest clothes too. But not this morning.

   Instead, he slipped on his favourite black silk robe and arranged it so that the collar fell open invitingly.

   Ten might have woken up first, but Taeyong knew how to get a plan back on track.

   He transitioned his humming to singing as he crossed back from the bathroom to the bedroom, loud enough that Ten would hear him, know that he was out of bed. And Ten always followed him.

   He moved to the dresser and took the little box he’d kept in the top drawer. He’d known that it would be safe in there – that Ten wouldn’t find it. The dresser was a new addition to the bedroom, and it was _Taeyong’s_ domain. It was where he kept his overflow of products to avoid cluttering the bathroom. He’d always wanted a nice dresser.

   It was a silly, inconsequential wish, but in his mind he’d visualised a time when he’d one day have the _space_ for somewhere just to sit and relax into getting ready in the mornings. Not a dorm bathroom, not leaning over a sink to a mirror, but somewhere indulgent.

   Ten had bought him a nice dresser in an instant when he’d mentioned it.

   He opened the box with a smile playing around his lips and took out the jewellery, resting it up against his throat.

   _Nice_.

   Buying something for himself might not _necessarily_ be in the Christmas spirit, but he knew that Ten would like it.

   ‘Good morning.’

   Taeyong glanced over his shoulder as he fastened the small chain at the back of the choker. ‘Try again.’

   Ten laughed, cocking his head to the side to survey what he could see of Taeyong while he was still sat down. Ten himself was leant against the doorframe, coffee in one hand. ‘Merry Christmas?’

   At this, Taeyong turned properly and gave him a dazzling smile. ‘Merry Christmas, Ten.’

   He stood up, wanting to throw himself into his arms. But that part could wait, because he wanted to start his day in the best way possible. Knowing that Ten was watching him, he crawled back onto the bed instead, hips swaying, and only met his eyes again once he’d settled up against the stacked pillows.

   Finally, Ten’s gaze flickered to the choker at his neck – a smooth, gold band, and a perfect little white bow resting invitingly at the hollow of his throat. Perhaps a less composed man might have dropped his coffee, but Ten just raised his eyebrows.

   ‘You know I’m running out of words to describe you, don’t you?’

   Taeyong pouted. ‘Try something.’ No number of years would ever stop him from craving Ten’s praise the way that his body craved oxygen and sustenance and everything else that it needed to live.

   ‘Transfixing… enchanting… utterly exquisite?’ Ten suggested as he sat on the edge of the bed. ‘Did you wake up like this?’ he gave him a teasing smile as he turned his body and rested a hand on Taeyong’s bare leg.

   ‘Oh of course,’ said Taeyong, face pink with flush, sitting up onto his knees and crawling the short distance between them until he was close to Ten’s side. ‘I hope you like your present.’

   Ten looked him up and down once more, then exhaled. One hand moved up to toy with the choker at this throat, fingers grazing the pretty white bow. ‘I see,’ he smiled. ‘The present being _you_ , kitten?’

   ‘Maybe.’

   Ten kissed him, taking his face in his hands and thumbing his sharp cheekbones with reverence as he pulled him smoothly to straddle his lap. He stroked his tongue across his lower lip, and Taeyong parted his lips so easily, sighing into his kiss. Ten broke away soon though, and touched a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, then one to his jaw. He brushed loving kisses down the side of his neck, hands gripping his waist to pull his body flush to him, and paused at the new addition.

   ‘A perfect little present,’ he sighed against the velvety gold band, touching a kiss to the white bow. ‘You wrapped up all nice and pretty for me.’

   ‘You like it?’ Taeyong smiled. It didn’t feel jarring to break the spell slightly for a moment, because he and Ten had been enjoying their spell for over two years. It was quite resilient.

   ‘It’s cute,’ Ten nodded. ‘Just like you. Although this wasn’t how I expected this morning to go.’

   ‘So I managed to surprise you?’

   ‘That you did,’ said Ten, before he swung Taeyong around and laid him carefully down on the bed, stretching over him and kissing him again. Taeyong could have melted right there into the mattress. ‘It’s quite early, for you.’

   Taeyong mock yawned and closed his eyes for a second. ‘Mm. Sleepy.’

   ‘Well I’ll be _very_ gentle. I know how delicate you are in the mornings.’

   Taeyong hummed in contentment as Ten caught his lips again. He’d spend his whole life kissing Ten if he could. Ten made slow work of his robe, letting it fall open only when he’d had his fill taking in the rest of him, and shifted his focus to his chest, to his collarbones, to his soft tummy where he pressed little kisses that made Taeyong laugh. 

   _Fuck I’m lucky_ , Taeyong thought, just for a moment. Ten always called himself the luckiest guy in the world, he talked non-stop about Taeyong being the miracle who walked into his life, but several times a day, Taeyong took a moment to really look at Ten, his fiancé, his soon-to-be husband, and he felt like the luckiest guy in the _universe_. Not because Ten was handsome or charming or rich or anything like that, but because Ten loved him so fucking much. When he held his body like this, brushed love all over it, Taeyong felt so overwhelmed with his adoration that he could hardly believe that _this_ had happened to him. Finding that person. Finding someone to love him the way Ten did.

   ‘Best Christmas morning ever,’ Ten breathed, kissing his hip, then the top of his thigh. 

   He took him into his palm, gentle as he’d promised, and stroked him with slow, methodical rhythm. Taeyong let out a soft moan, sparks radiating in his navel.

   ‘You sound so lovely like that,’ Ten sighed. He thumbed over his head, smiling with satisfaction when Taeyong keened again. ‘Beautiful.’

   Amongst every special moment of intimacy that they’d shared, which Taeyong had no possibility of putting an estimate on, morning sex was not high on the count. Taeyong really _didn’t_ get up early very often. He was, and always had been, a night owl. There was something sweet, something warm about it though, which was exactly why he’d wanted to surprise Ten.

   It ended up being that _soft_ kind of fucking, the kind that was in all honesty probably hopelessly indulgent enough to be called love-making. When Ten pressed two slicked fingers inside him, it was coupled with kisses to his neck, lips curving into another smile against his skin when Taeyong’s back arched slightly and he shifted his hips.

   He whined when Ten crooked his fingers. Ten knew him too well, knew every millimetre of him. He never needed time to find the right spots, or find the right rhythm. He knew Taeyong down to every precise detail. He also knew how to use that knowledge to his advantage, and his _advantage_ meant getting to watch Taeyong turn to putty in his hold.

   ‘Please Ten,’ he whimpered, because he just didn’t want to wait.

   Ten added one more finger, the sensitivity on his prostate making him jerk his hips for a second, and then he pulled his hand away.

   He sat back on his heels, and Taeyong would have got up to give _Ten_ some attention, but he couldn’t quite seem to move when he saw Ten start to stroke himself instead. He was ringing the base of his cock, far too slow for much satisfaction, but enough to make Taeyong squirm with need. He propped himself up on his elbows and watched, lips parted, breathing very fast.

   Ten met his gaze, eyes dark and gleaming, _daring_ him.

   _Fine_. Taeyong took his own cock in his hand, a second of relief making him drop his head back, and then Ten tutted.

   ‘Ah – no.’

   Taeyong pouted, but he let go instantly.

   ‘ _Watch_ , and be patient,’ Ten said with an air of disapproval.

   ‘Don’t be mean to me on Christmas,’ Taeyong whined, twinges of need making him shuffle his hips. ‘ _Tennie_.’

   Ten sighed, then leant over him and ghosted a kiss to his lips. ‘Impatient,’ he breathed.

   ‘Yep.’

   ‘Just how I love you,’ Ten exhaled as he lined himself up and pressed inside him, with restraint because he really had promised to be gentle with him this morning. ‘My impatient baby boy. My love. I wouldn’t change a thing.’

   Taeyong hummed with happiness at the praise.

   Ten held Taeyong’s hands as he fucked into him, so slow, but with such purpose that there was enough intensity to make Taeyong lose grasp on his breath for a second.

   Ten paused so that he could adjust their position, before speeding up his rhythm slightly, the pace making Taeyong pant with every motion. When he let go of Taeyong’s hands, Taeyong sought for closeness any way he could, wrapping his legs around his waist to pull him deeper, and lacing his fingers into his hair. With their bodies so tight together, the friction made his cock twitch between them, leaking onto both their stomachs.

   He knew that he wouldn’t last long like that. He always loved it best when Ten let the sensations inside him, the rhythm, the closeness, push him over – he didn’t need him to jerk him off.

   Ten mouthed at the choker at this neck, catching it just between his teeth for a second. With every thrust, Taeyong had to hold him tighter, pretty whimpers tumbling from his lips.

   It was so heady – so all-consuming – that time seemed to lose its meaning for a moment. In this sort of moment, Taeyong could stay forever.

   But he did come first, if only by a second. He was at the peak of his high, gasping, body trembling, when Ten came inside him, rhythm stuttering, breath hot and panting against his neck. ‘ _Taeyong -_ ’ was the word that made it out. He’d always find that.

   ‘ _Fuck -_ ’ Taeyong whined for a second, too sensitive, the heat inside such a precious reminder of everything they shared, and then Ten pulled out, rolling onto his back, taking Taeyong’s hand straight in his and lifting it to his lips.

   ‘God, Taeyong, you are…’

   There was a moment of silence.

   A _long_ moment of silence in which Taeyong wondered whether Ten was going to find some praise to finish his sentence, but -

   ‘Happy Christmas, Yongie.’

   ‘Happy Christmas, Ten.’

   Then, Taeyong giggled, and turned onto his side so he could curl up to him.

   ‘Did you like your present?’

   ‘The present being you?’ Ten checked again, breathing heavy.

   ‘The present being me.’

   ‘I _loved_ it.’

   ‘We should start more mornings like this,’ Taeyong mused.

   Ten laughed. His eyes fell closed for a minute as he found his centre. ‘I’m not sure I’d be able to go to work after a morning like this.’

   ‘Well, there’s no work today,’ Taeyong said smugly.

   ‘No, no work today.’

*

   By the time that they started their Christmas Day for the _second_ time, Taeyong felt pleasantly refreshed. He flitted around the apartment, made breakfast for both of them, put on _loud_ Christmas music, and made coffee too because Ten had never quite got around to drinking his earlier.

   He also opened presents – _far_ too many presents from Ten.

   ‘This is the best,’ he murmured, when he snuggled up with him on the couch somewhere halfway through the day. They weren’t really keeping track of time – minutes never mattered all that much when they had a lifetime to look forward to together.

   Unless the minutes meant _minutes_ until Ten got home from work, or _minutes_ until their favourite drama started on TV, or _minutes_ until their family were due to arrive for a dinner party.

   He pulled his new blanket so tightly around himself that he was entirely cocooned, stable only because Ten had an equally strong grip around him to keep him from falling off the couch. The blanket was cashmere, dark grey, and big enough that Taeyong could wrap it around his whole body multiple times. Not everything that Ten bought him had to sparkle – sometimes, the softest things were the best.

   ‘What could this be?’ Ten mused, holding up a small, square parcel wrapped in pink paper.

   Taeyong had taken his wrapping seriously. Silver ribbon, glittered labels.

   Ten freed his other hand to unfold the wrapping carefully, which made Taeyong roll his eyes because he was more inclined to tear paper away in a rush of excitement than precisely peel each tiny piece of tape, and then he turned the case over. ‘A new CD?’ he smiled, looking down with genuine excitement in his eyes.

   Taeyong blinked up at him and nodded.

   He’d made several CDs for Ten since they’d met. First, he’d given him a disc of some of the songs he’d written at college. Then, he’d given him a number of mixtapes, anything that caught his mood, with hand-drawn inserts because he just couldn’t see anything romantic about an online playlist. He knew, mainly because Yukhei was a massive gossip, that Ten took them to the office and played them all day on his work computer.

   This one, though, was a return to older form.

   ‘It’s a song I wrote you.’

   ‘You did?’ Ten murmured, stroking his fingers into his hair.

   ‘I went shopping with Jungwoo and he was talking about how what you love is _me_ and I was going to paint you a picture but then I was in my studio the other night and I just started… and it just… well you know.’ Taeyong always wrote in one tumble of inspiration, the creative version of a stream-of-consciousness. This song was particularly raw – him and some keys and a microphone. Which was scary. Because he’d never been entirely confident with his singing voice.

   Demos? Fine. Someone else could fill in vocals later. But a finished product just for Ten? If it were anyone else in the world, Taeyong wouldn’t expose himself that way. But he knew Ten loved to listen to him.

   ‘Thank you my love,’ Ten angled down to kiss his forehead. ‘There’s nothing in the world I treasure more than your music.’

   As if to argue with that and present his own case, Snowy jumped up onto the couch at that exact moment and started to clamber over Ten.

   ‘He’ll shed on the blanket!’ Taeyong whined.

   Ten chuckled and collected the ball of fluff in his arms, lifting him a little away from the new blanket and sitting him on the arm of the couch. He tickled his chin until the cat started to try to catch hold of his fingers, and subsequently he lifted his hand away to find a toy instead.

   ‘So,’ Ten started, with an air of great solemnity. ‘Do you want me to start dinner?’

   Taeyong sat up, arms pinned to his sides by his blanket. ‘You are not cooking Christmas dinner.’

   ‘Why not?’ Ten touched his heart as though deeply offended.

   ‘Because I _planned_ ,’ Taeyong grumbled, perhaps not _quite_ realising that Ten was playing with him. ‘And I practised. I want everything to be just perfect for us.’

   ‘What shall I do when you’re cooking then?’

   ‘Play with the kittens,’ said Taeyong, as if this were the most obvious answer in the world.

   ‘Can I choose the movie, too?’

   ‘No,’ Taeyong pouted, ‘I already chose!’

   Ten held his gaze just for a moment, and then laughed, shaking his head. ‘You’re so cute when you think I’m going to interrupt your plans. Adorable.’

   Taeyong gave him a playful shove as he extricated himself from his cocoon. ‘You won’t be laughing when you realise the movie I chose is animated.’

   Ten threw his head back against the couch cushion and groaned.

   Taeyong’s face, on the other hand, broke into a beaming smile, and he pecked a kiss to Ten’s lips as he climbed off the couch. ‘You love me _just_ how I am, remember? There’s _nothing_ you’d change.’

   ‘Nothing at all,’ Ten sighed, eyes on the ceiling.

   Taeyong skipped to the kitchen and opened the fridge, searching over the abundance of quality ingredients because nothing about having the lifestyle he had now was better than having access to a constantly stacked fridge, with two doors, of everything he could ever want to cook with.

   He heard Ten cross over to the hi-fi system, the whir of the CD drive, and then the click at the beginning of the song.

   For just a second, Taeyong cringed, but then he turned and watched Ten. He was leant over the system, one hand on the unit above, face serious with concentration. It was very simple, so simple, just a keyboard and his voice, but the way that Ten seemed to be thinking through it, Taeyong could have written a symphony. His brow was furrowed, searching through every word for meaning.

   ‘I know it’s - ’ Taeyong started, but Ten put up a hand to silence him, as though he couldn’t bear to be distracted.

   It was a love song.

   Taeyong didn’t usually write love songs. And since he’d been working in the studio, he didn’t write so much at all, working on his producing instead, but when he did, he usually wrote about his past. He wrote from a place of pain, then of acceptance, then of relief. He didn’t write love songs.

   Except one.

   Because Ten _was_ his relief.

   ‘You wrote this for me?’ Ten looked back at him only once the song was done, eyes wide.

   ‘Happy Christmas,’ Taeyong said awkwardly.

   Ten crossed the room so quickly that he made the cats jump, and pulled Taeyong tightly into his arms. He kissed him, his hair, then his forehead, all over his face.

   ‘We’re not under the mistletoe, Ten,’ Taeyong whined, but the protest was clearly for fun. ‘It’s _tradition_.’

   ‘I don’t need it,’ Ten breathed. ‘We’re not at all traditional.’

   Well that was true. _Traditional_ wouldn’t have met the way that they had. But if Taeyong had said it once, he’d say it another thousand times: he wasn’t really that interested in fitting in. ‘No,’ he conceded with a smile, ‘no we’re not.’

   There was just a moment, where Taeyong thought there was a sparkle in Ten’s eye. Just a moment. But he’d only ever seen him cry once, so he might have imagined it.

   To allow him to hide it if he wanted, Taeyong turned back to the dinner he was ready to prepare and waited a minute or so before saying with nonchalance: ‘You know that by next Christmas we’ll be husbands, right?’

   ‘Are we not husbands yet?’ Ten said in faux surprise, his momentary emotion replaced by a glint of _excitement_. ‘I always think of you that way anyway.’

   Taeyong gave him a smug smile. ‘Not long now, Tennie. The months are starting to turn into _weeks_.’

   ‘Weeks?’ Ten exhaled. ‘I’d better start arranging cover for work.’

   ‘Weeks. And then it’ll be days.’

   Ten nodded. ‘And then you’ll be mine at last.’

   Taeyong pulled a face. ‘Oh Ten, I was yours from the words _hey, pretty kitty._ ’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/puffyong_)
> 
> [Living Costs](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14150934/chapters/32614455)


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